


Ghost Trick Bits

by Siver



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: Various tiny scenes with various characters that take place before, during and after the game, so please watch for spoilers.





	1. Ghost Trick Bits 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Various scenes taking during and after the game.

**Two Became Four**

No one knew exactly when two became four. But it had become a common sight to see the Inspector whirl in to a crime scene circled by a fluffy Pomeranian bounding around his legs in perfect sync followed by the Detective striding in, a little black cat with an all too knowing look perched on his shoulder.

 

**Blessing in Disguise**

When Jowd appeared before Cabanela in that courtyard, he experienced a mix of shock, relief and frustration. Five years and now the idiot commits a crime? One more thing to clean up. A bit more time to spare. Another plan to set in motion.

In the Minister’s Office, as he lounged in the chair the clock ticking loudly in his ears counting down the precious minutes, and Jowd standing back with a fire lit in his eyes again, the detective replacing the sedate man so willing to walk to the chair, Cabanela reflected that maybe this had been a blessing in disguise. 

 

**A Simple Pomeranian**

Humans were complicated. That much Missile knew. Events happened one after another. They saved lives. They stopped the meteorite from killing Yomiel in the park and now they were here and everything was good. Yet most of the humans, even his beloved Kamila had forgotten all the events leading to this point. Sissel had tried to explain it all to him, but cats seemed to be just as complicated as humans.

No, Missile didn’t understand the humans’ ways, but there were two things he did understand: that he would befriend and protect them all again and, as he curled up, his nose getting buried in his tail, that all in all he was quite content to be a simple Pomeranian. 

 

**Alterations**

“I got a different murder weapon ready to give to the police – my own pistol. And I did a few other things to make it look good. I won’t go into the details…”

Sissel felt he was missing a deeper meaning in those words. Nevertheless they and Lynne’s horrified face sent a chill through him. Maybe some memories weren’t so bad to lose.

 

**Little Warrior**

When Missile wasn’t attached to Kamila or Lynne he latched himself to Cabanela. The Inspector couldn’t be certain why he’d go to him of all people, but after he caught the dog spinning after him and performing a series of hops and paw movements that could only be described as a dance, he knew this dog had style. He just wondered where the urge to call him Little Warrior came from.  


	2. Ghost Trick Bits 2 - Sissel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some scenes focusing on post-game Sissel! Major spoilers of course.

**The Incident**

It was one thing to be a disembodied ghost solving mysteries all night. It turned out to be something else entirely to be a bodied ghost in the form of a simple house cat. The Incident occurred not long after Jowd brought him home. He’d gone exploring and Kamila discovered his apparently lifeless body. After the sobbing Little Lady was calmed down (Sissel still had no idea how they’d explained that one) and Jowd gave Sissel a stern talking-to about leaving his body in easy to find places, he vowed to get a firm paw on all the obscure hiding places he could find.

 

**Missing Paths**

Sissel never did understand why some objects had cores and some didn’t, but another lesson about living with a family was learned after he found himself trapped when his path was taken away during a ‘tidy up’.

When Jowd returned after work to find out that no one had seen Sissel all day that evening found him walking slowly from room to room until he got close enough for the disgruntled cat to hop into his badge.

While not a word was said, Sissel did not appreciate the detective’s low chuckle after he’d been brought back to his body.

 

**Teach Me**

“Jowd, I have a favour to ask.”

“What do you need, Sissel?”

“Teach me how to read.”

And so it became a common sight for Sissel to be perched on Jowd’s lap whenever he read a newspaper or book. Alma assumed the cat just liked the warm lap time, but she did sometimes catch a glimpse of a proud smile on her husband’s face after these occasions and could only wonder at its meaning.

 

**SIU Mascot**

When Jowd started bringing Sissel to work it raised some eyebrows and a few comments. After a while when things always seemed to line up just so and missed clues were revealed or when mishaps suddenly weren’t they’d all come to think of the little cat as their lucky charm and he became something of a mascot for the Special Investigation Unit.


	3. Ghost Trick Bits 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenes that went angsty. Take place before, during and after game.   
> Featuring Yomiel, Cabanela, Jowd, Lynne and Kamila

**A Broken Rhythm**

Night and day gave rhythm to people’s lives. Night brought sleep. Morning brought awakening. Food was eaten. Jobs were worked. And the cycle repeated. There was no rhythm for him. He needed no sleep. He needed no food.

Some nights he would wander. Others he would find a place to sit and watch. The moon would rise. The stars would come out. Sometimes he would count them, a pointless act, but it passed the time.

The stars would fade. The sun would rise colouring the clouds and casting light on the world.

He felt nothing for it.   

 

**Last Hurrah**

Cabanela felt the almost comforting weight of the pistol still tucked in his coat. One final trick. One last hurrah. Yeah. Nothing like it. He whipped out the gun and shot. He watched Yomiel fall over the stepladder knocking it back and could only watch as the stepladder rolled back bearing his body. Even knowing it was coming it was still disturbing to see the body rise up unfazed.  

He was getting shakier and his thoughts fuzzier with pain but he managed to hold the gun steady. Until the lamp swung and knocked it out of his hand and into Yomiel’s.

“This was another condition of my deal. To wipe out everybody who knew about Temsik.”

He instinctively jerked forward in his seat but couldn’t move any more than that. This was it.

Nothing like it …

Bang.

 

**Uneasy Familiarity**

When Cabanela and Jowd entered the junkyard superintendent’s office pursuing a lead, Cabanela went in with the hope of finding clues on the missing super who had ties to their larger case, but the expectation that they may not find much at all.

He did not expect the sudden wave of dread on entering the room.

He did not expect the room to seem so familiar despite having never been there.

He did not expect to stare at a table, bare except for a few scattered (and useless) papers, and feel that it looked _wrong._

When they moved their search to the basement he felt an inexplicable worry and for some reason he couldn’t fathom he found himself thinking of their medical examiner of all people.

When Jowd turned on the light revealing a room only containing a few crates and tools, Cabanela again got the sense that it seemed familiar yet wrong, so wrong in its emptiness like a home stripped of its furniture.

After a search that turned up nothing of use they left the building to move to other leads and Cabanela felt a surge of relief despite their lack of findings. Jowd silently clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze that seemed to hold a bit too much reassurance for a simple dead end.

 

**Save Yourself First**

Lynne was dead. Again. It was almost disturbing how little she was disturbed by it, but somehow Sissel always seemed to show up and she had more urgent worries. She would keep coming back and she would solve this case. She would save her hero. As long as she kept thinking that she could quell the nagging thought: if she couldn’t even save herself from dying how was she going to save _him?_

 

**Never Alone**

Some nights were harder than others. Kamila always tried to be cheerful. She loved Lynne and never wanted to worry her. She knew how much becoming a detective meant to her and she never wanted to distract her from that. She wanted to be a good little sister.

Tonight Kamila wished Lynne was home. She wished her mother was here. She wished her father was here and not imprisoned for a crime he didn’t … for a crime she … She hugged her knees close to her chest. She wanted her family.

She buried her face in her arms and cried until she felt a nudge and then a wet little nose. She lifted her head and almost smiled through her tears at her puppy visitor. Of course she was never completely alone. She buried her face in his fur. Never truly alone while there was a little Pomeranian looking after her.


	4. Ghost Trick Bits 4 - Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some silly fun stuff to make up for the last batch of angsty things.
> 
> Cabanela was completely involved in Jowd and Alma’s wedding and totally played roles as both best man and bridesmaid. He probably organized the whole thing himself. 
> 
> Featuring Jowd, Alma and Cabanela

**Wardrobe Woes**

Getting Alma’s wedding gown taken care of was an easy and surprisingly swift pleasure. A few alterations to be made to bring it to perfection and it would be ready to go. The shoe hunt was a bit more difficult. Alma felt lost among them all. Where to even begin? Until Cabanela popped from behind a rack with the perfect pair.

Jowd on the other hand should have been the simple one. Even if it was for Jowd. Alma and Cabanela exchanged many an amused look over the ordeal. But, it was only a suit after all even if the riiight one had to be found and he wasn’t making this any easier.

“Honey, stop hunching.”

“Do I even neeed to comment on that one, baby?”

“Do you both need to be here?”

“Of course. We love you.”

“No, no. Steeep away from that, that’s a goood fellow.”

“Cabanela, I’m going to arrest you if you don’t stop laughing.”

And so on until they took pity on him and took him home. They could finish this tomorrow.

 

**He Has Two Left Feet**

Alma sighed with relief as Cabanela hopped into the diner chair across from her.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Unuuusual request for just the two of us.”

“I need a plan and I think you’re the only one who can help. The wedding is in just a few weeks and I’m at my wit’s end. Please. Help me teach Jowd how to dance.”

Cabanela let loose a laugh. “I always diiid like a challenge!”

 

**Speech**

Cabanela was Jowd’s best man, so of course he had to make a speech at the wedding dinner. It started as the usual fair, if more flamboyant than usual, and the guests smiled and nodded along.

Then the uncertainty started and the dawning confusion. Looks were exchanged while smiles flashed across the groom’s face and the bride had to stop herself from bursting out with laughter.

The speech came to a close and a tentative smattering of applause broke across the hall before briefly growing stronger – applause is what you _do_ at a wedding – then quickly dying down.

Cabanela returned to his seat with his usual gusto unfazed by the guests’ lukewarm reaction. The speech was meant for _them_. The guests were merely along for the ride.

 

**Dance With Me**

Cabanela sipped at a glass of wine. He would rejoin the dancers soon enough. For now he was content to watch. It was a beautiful display, but he realised, one that was missing its centerpiece.

He cast his gaze around the large room looking for the love birds and found Jowd hiding, sooorry, sitting in a quiet corner looking tired but content.

Just as he was wondering where Alma could have gone he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned and there she was beaming and resplendent in her wedding gown.

She held out a hand to him.

“I still owe you a dance.”


	5. Ghost Trick Bits 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variety of pre and post game scenes.
> 
> Featuring: Lynne, Cabanela, Jowd, Alma, Missile, Sissel, Kamila

Lynne was stunned when Detective Cabanela came to _her_ with Kamila in tow and asked _her_ to look after the young girl.

She had met Kamila a couple times before and liked her. But… but, she couldn’t look after a child! She was barely an adult.

But, Detective Cabanela was trusting _her_! With his best friend’s daughter!

She needed to focus on working and her education. She needed to learn all she could to be a detective.

She could be looking after her Hero’s daughter! She could do something for him right now! And it wouldn’t be for long, right?

She’s not even good at taking care of a fish! Let alone a child!

A young very alone child … and she had to admit it got pretty lonely in her little apartment too, but … but …

She looked at Kamila who was lurking a bit behind Cabanela and staring at the floor.

“Yeah. I … I’ll take care of her.”

 

* * *

 

The men in Alma’s life were workaholics. They had still been pouring over reports and case notes when she had gone to bed, so she wasn’t at all surprised when she woke up to find Jowd’s half of the bed empty.

She crept downstairs and peeked into the living room to find the coffee table littered with papers and two empty mugs and the couch occupied.

Jowd’s feet were up on the table and his head was tilted back against the couch cushions. One arm was stretched out and beside it lay a pen that had no doubt slipped from his hand.

Cabanela sprawled against Jowd’s other side with his legs dangling over the couch arm. A paper he must have been reading was still lying on his stomach trapped under one arm while his other arm dangled over the side, hand trailing against the floor.  

Alma shook her head with exasperation at them, but tip-toed away with a smile to go put coffee on. Her boys were going to need it.

 

* * *

 

Some days he wakes up with a terrible sense of urgency. He’s up like a shot and running through everything he has to do that day all in the pursuit of his final goal before he stops dead. There is no grand goal and his day is no busier than the usual chaos brought on by being part of the Special Investigation Unit. He can only chalk up the feeling to forgotten dreams.

 

* * *

 

Missile finally detached himself from Kamila to bound over to Sissel.

“Sissel Sissel, welcome!”

Sissel glanced around the Jowd household. “Isn’t that my line?”

“I’m just so happy to see you again! It’s been YEARS!”

“Aren’t you only two?”

“That’s a long time for a little dog! And longer for you!”

True. Ten years of waiting. “It’s good to see you again, Missile.” He looked around at the whole household talking and laughing. It was good to see everyone together at last.

 

* * *

 

This may have been a mistake, Jowd mused as Cabanela flopped back into his seat after a ridiculous bow to applause and a drunken cheer. At least even drunk he can still sing decently.

He’d almost forgotten how much of a lightweight his friend was, but then it had been five … no, it hadn’t, had it? He took a drink. It was still hard not to confuse events and timing, but it had been a while and they needed this.

And now they were taking their night and he was taking it slow and easy. He knew his limits - far larger than a certain white coated inspector here - and he knew he wasn’t a talkative drunk - unlike his rambling friend beside him - but he didn’t want to risk anything slipping tonight.

Cabanela raised his glass. “A toooast! To friendship!”

He smiled a bit. Clink.

“Nothing like it!”

True.

“I’d do anything for you.”

He nearly choked and took a large gulp to cover his sudden discomfort. Innocuous words normally. Easy to say. Not so easy to mean, but now he knew the underlying sincerity of that statement.


	6. Ghost Trick Bits 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly post game scenes, but a bit of pre-game as well. (Thaaaanks, Cabanela). Pretty much at least a little bit of everyone from the core cast. Cabanela and Jowd still win at getting the most involvement… Those two won’t leave me alone.

“Man, Detective Jowd. Would have never believed it.”  
“Apparently it all added up. There was proof and he admitted it and everything.”  
“Maybe he snapped, you know? Heat of the moment.”  
“I don’t know. He always seemed so calm.”  
“Hey it happens.”  
“I’ve seen it. Sometimes someone just cracks and bang.”  
“Murder though. He was one of the best.”  
“I’ve seen some nasty things between couples.”

The gossiping officers jumped at the sound of the door opening but no one turned fast enough to see more than a flash of white before the door closed with a hard sharp snap.

 

* * *

 

Cabanela dragged a hand through his hair and frowned at the date he had just written in a bout of frustration. It was a pointless act. Whether he succeeded or failed that date would be burned into his mind forever. He had only had the vague hope that if he pinned it to paper maybe it would stop swirling around his mind in an underlying chant that entwined every thought. It didn’t work. He crumpled the sheet up and tossed it in the can before getting up to leave. No point dwelling. He always thought better on his feet anyway.

 

* * *

 

To think he had lost this. To think he was allowed to gain it back and more. Jowd cast his gaze around the hill they were using to watch the summer fireworks.

Kamila, Missile and Sissel were in a pile with Kamila using Missile as a pillow while his tail thumped rapidly against the ground. Did he ever stop wagging? Sissel was curled up on her legs head raised to watch the sky. Lynne sat beside them and exchanged comments with Kamila that had them both laughing interspersed with sounds of appreciation for the show.

Cabanela lay back with his hands behind his head beside Jowd and Alma looking utterly content. Jowd sat with his arms loosely around Alma who leaned against him with one hand entangled in his.

This is what he lost and, with apang of guilt, this is what he gave up on as well. He hugged Alma a little tighter to him.

He wouldn’t lose this again.

 

* * *

 

They were half way across the yard when Alma stopped. New mother worries. Worries she told herself she wouldn’t have, but as she looked down at her little daughter she couldn’t stop her mind’s onslaught. What if she was a bad mother? What if they did something wrong? Oh gods what if she dropped her? What if she got suddenly ill or injured or … What if what if what if? Something simple, what was something simple?

“You don’t think there’ll be a problem with Sissel, right?” She frowned now feeling silly, but Jowd just smiled and replied with absolute certainty.

“He’ll be fine. They’ll be fine.”

He gently took her arm and guided her to the door.

When they entered they found Sissel sitting alertly in the living room. Once Alma settled herself on the couch and had her daughter securely cradled in her arms Sissel hopped up.

He gently poked the baby with his nose, _“So we meet again, little lady.”_ Then he curled up beside them with a purr.

Jowd and Alma exchanged smiles.

From then on wherever Kamila was Sissel could be found nearby watching over her.

 

* * *

 

Painting. It wasn’t something he ever expected to do and certainly not at the quiet suggestion of the detective. He once made creations out of numbers and text. Creations formed of building blocks given new meaning to create a greater whole. His art was embedded in lines of code, beautiful in its logic.

And now he made creations of brush and pigment. It was strange at first. After ten years of emptiness what right did he have to work with such colours? He almost quit, but with little else to do he persevered.

And he came to find that it felt good. It felt good to create again, albeit in a different form, to make something new instead of working to take everything away for an impossible dream.

Yomiel painted.  


	7. Ghost Trick Bits 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and silliness ahoy! 
> 
> Featuring: Lynne, Kamila, Cabanela, Jowd, Yomiel, Sissel (fiancee), Alma

“Lynne! What do think of this one?” Kamila held a ribbon against her hair.

“Hmm I think it looks great!” Lynne shifted her shopping bag. “It’s starting to get late. What do you say we buy that one and go for some chicken?”

“Okay!”

Soon they were strolling side by side down the street. Kamila drew a little closer to Lynne. “Thank you.”

“Huh? We can go shopping anytime, you know! Well … anytime I’m home anyway.”

“Yeah! But, I meant thank you for being a great sister.”

 

* * *

 

“Searching through dusty archives wasn’t quiiite what I signed up for,” Cabanela complained from atop a ladder leaning against the shelf.

“If you can find it we won’t be here long,” Jowd responded from his position holding the ladder. “Hm, I’m not sure this ladder is-“ There was a crack followed by a blur of toppling wood and billowing coat and scarf.

In the next moment they were staring at each other in bewilderment – Jowd at suddenly having an armful of white coat and legs and Cabanela at _falling._

Jowd cracked first. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen his friend look so offended.

The silence of the room was shattered by their laughter.

 

* * *

 

“Yomiel, when did you last eat?”

“Few hours ago,” followed by a muttered, “I think.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’ll be done here soon.”

“I miiight have believed that the first three times.”

Sissel wound an arm around Yomiel’s chest and he felt something move beside him. There was a basket dangling near his face.

“Ten more minutes. Then we’re going for a picnic.”

“I’m not sure…”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Ten minutes.”

Exactly ten minutes later they were out the door.

 

* * *

 

Lynne grumbled and dragged herself to her desk. Filing reports was the worst part of this job and on her Birthday no less. When she got to her desk she wondered if she had somehow gone to the wrong one for a moment. There was a small vase of flowers with a card. She opened the card revealing a simple “Happy Birthday” with a scrawled signature that she was pretty sure said Rindge. She grinned. Her day just improved.

 

* * *

 

“Jowd, wake up.”

Jowd awoke with a jolt. “Alma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! But come here.” Alma pulled at his arm and dragged him to their window. “Look!”

Snow was gently falling and there was already a thick layer on the ground and more decorating the trees in a white veil.

Jowd could see Alma’s eyes dancing in the dim light. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She clapped her hands together. “It’s been so long since we’ve had this much!”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her pulling her close. Together they stood and watched the snow drift down as the morning lightened and Jowd felt at peace in a way he hadn’t for a long time.


	8. Ghost Trick Bits 8 - Cabanela

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mix of bits I posted individually on Tumblr and compiled here along with a few brand new ones. Somehow I wound up with a full collection surrounding Cabanela. You spotlight thief you.

“I keep coming back to two possibilities. Black mail or some kind of cover up for someone but who fooor?” Cabanela leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on his desk. It had been an extraordinarily long day.

The phone rang.

“Detective Rindge here, sir.”

“What have you got for me?”

“Location is clear. The target never showed.”

“Pack it up then, but if anything comes up ring me up immeeediately.”

“Yes sir!”

He hung up and sat quietly for a moment as the silence of the office gave way to the soft pitter patter of rain against window.

“A dead end. I miiight be willing to concede a point. Aaany ideas?”

Drip drip drip.

He slung his feet off the desk and hopped up, scooped up his umbrella and gave it a couple idle twirls while making his way to the door. He spared a glance to the empty desk across from his own.

“Next round is miiine, baby.” And with that he exited the office alone. 

* * *

It’s a daily cycle and one she keeps out of. Oh, he’s tried before - appeal to the referee and all - but she always was the smart one and stayed out of their battles. Stick to the sidelines and watch with a never changing smile. That’s okay. This is a battle he’s used to fighting alone.

Some mornings he claims victory. It’s a one-two step, a dance of words and he is a good dancer. A sharp repartee. A well-crafted strike here. No rebuttal? As good as a forfeit, baby. You knooow I’m right.

Other days - more days than he cares to admit (our secret, yeees?) - he can only concede defeat against that easy, unchanging smile. On a truly bad defeat the picture is turned down.

Evening sees it upright. Morning brings a rematch.

* * *

The pub owner wasn’t the most talkative of sorts, however he had a good memory for faces and paid special care for his recurring customers. It had become a near weekly routine to see the pair of detectives at dinner; there was a table practically reserved for them.

One loud and flamboyant in a long white coat, but always friendly and tipped very well. The other quieter but good humoured and always had a friendly word for him.

Then they stopped coming for a long span of time until one evening he looked up in surprise to see the white coat enter alone. Their table was luckily empty that night and White Coat went straight for it.

After that evening he started coming again always alone and less frequently than before but, while a little quieter than the owner remembered, still had a friendly word for him and the energetic air of flamboyance.

Then, he judged it to be about four to five years after he had last seen the pair of detectives, he saw White Coat come in again with a small older fellow who he came to view as an intelligent though crotchety sort. An odd pair to be sure.

They took their table and after that evening he saw them more regularly, alternating between amiable chatter – mostly on White Coat’s part – and more serious intense talk.

He always made sure they were well fed.

* * *

Cabanela followed after his prisoner. There was silence between them, but before long he found himself falling into step with Jowd, and as they moved they took on their old comfortable leisurely pace. For a brief time it was easy to feel as though the last five years had never happened. At least it was until he laid eyes again on that awful, gods-forsaken pink smock. 

* * *

They were gone.

Cabanela shifted uneasily in his chair and leaned cautiously toward the phone eliciting a raised eyebrow from the professor who had also been making a move for the phone.

“Quick call to the boooys,” Cabanela said by way of explanation.

“Fine, but then I’m calling you an ambulance. I don’t need you collapsed on my floor again.”  

Two calls later and a stern frown sending Cabanela leaning back into his seat after a dropped phone receiver the maintenance office fell still and silent.

Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics immediately set to work taking care of what they could and loading Cabanela into the stretcher.

The professor stayed at his side while the medics did their work. Cabanela’s gaze stayed fixed on the phone as though willing it to ring while he was still present.

“I’ll bring news when I can,” the professor said.

“Send him alooong. He owes me a good hospital visit.” And they had a lot to talk about or around, but either way there were some points to be made or drilled rather. Yes, drilled into that thick skull.

Neither of them touched the big ‘If’ hanging in the air. 

* * *

Cabanela was not a worrier. Worry was pointless. If there was action to be taken, take it. If there really wasn’t anything to be done worry was not going to change the outcome.

So, of course it wasn’t worry propelling him back and forth across his flat. The repeated glances at his phone were sheer happenstance and the rush to pick it up was courtesy of couuurse.

There definitely was no note of fear or tension when he answered.

And it certainly wasn’t pure relief that sent him crashing into his seat because everything was fine as he knew it would be.

A healthy baby girl. Welcome to the Jowd family.


	9. Ghost Trick Bits 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here's another set collecting two pieces from Tumblr and some brand new pieces. Featuring Cabanela, Jowd, Alma, Sissel, Missile and Pigeon Man (and Lynne very briefly)  
> Fluff ahoy!

There was knock at the door and Jowd got up to leave the living room. Sissel perked up when he heard a familiar voice and a familiar yapping. Without thinking he ghosted into the lamp, darting from one object to another until he reached the door.

Lynne stood at the entrance trying to restrain a small ball of wriggling fluff.

“Missile, come on. Aah thanks for taking him today. He’s still … mmf… getting used to things. I didn’t want to leave him alone in the apartment. Are you sure you don’t mind? Not gonna be a problem with your cat?”

Jowd grinned broadly. “Not at all.”

Of course, Sissel thought. It had been eight years since the park. He should have realized he’d be seeing the little warrior any time now.

Missile finally escaped from Lynne’s arms and charged circles around Jowd barking uproariously. Lynne thanked Jowd again and quickly closed the door.

Jowd went back to the living room with Missile bounding around his feet. Sissel darted after and made it back to his body just in time to be nosed at by the excited puppy.

Sissel reached out to his core. If it was possible for a ghost to be bowled over he was sure he would have been.

“Sissel Sissel Sissel!”

There was an onslaught of excited and confused thoughts.

“Sissel friend! Big bearded friend! I know you I know you!”  Missile yapped several times at him.

Sissel chuckled. Puppy memories. 

* * *

 

“I’ll just have to get Cabanela’s opinion then,” Alma said. She glanced over her shoulder at Jowd as she left the kitchen. “At least he has a broader palette for things other than chicken.”

She strolled into the living room. “We’re having a flavour debate. Maybe you can decide-oh.” Alma stopped short. Cabanela sat stretched out on the sofa fast asleep with the book she’d determinedly foisted on him (you’ll like it, it’s exciting, I promise) lying open his chest.

She smiled and quietly slipped back into kitchen.

“That was fast,” Jowd commented.

“He fell asleep.”

Jowd feigned a look of shock. “The great detective slacking off with sleep? Who knew he was capable of it? Mark the calendar!”

He was rewarded with a light punch to the arm.

“Be nice. You’ve both been working so hard lately.” She grinned. “Maybe you should go join him.”

Jowd gave her a bemused look. Alma laughed and turned back to the stove.

Maybe next time.

* * *

 

How did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve these two shining people in his life?

The room was dark only lit by the glow of the TV. Alma nestled into Jowd’s shoulder and a glance at her told him she had fallen asleep. A soft smile of contentment lit her face. Her fingers laced around his.

On his other side Cabanela leaned against him in a sprawl watching the TV through half lidded eyes. One arm dangled lazily over his chest and his other hand entwined around Jowd’s.

He was pinned between them and couldn’t move without risk of disturbing either of them.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

 

Clack clack clack. Alma whirled around to see her typewriter keys moving.

**Hello Alma.**

Alma bit back the automatic fear and looked quickly for Sissel. She spotted the cat’s form curled up under the desk. Still, unnaturally still. She breathed out.

Jowd told her everything recently. They’d even demonstrated the cat’s powers. She believed them. The cat was always odd and Jowd had never been quite the same since the park. As strange as it all was it made more sense than anything she could think of.

The keys started clacking again.

 **I wanted to say hi. All this tyme and we havent spo…** The keys paused for a moment. She saw the ‘C’ start to wiggle then stop and another took its place… **ken yet.**

She smiled and sat at the desk chair. “Hello Sissel. It’s nice to really meet you. I only wish we could have sooner.”

**He was afrayed. Took tyme to talk him into it.**

“I’m impressed you could at all. He’s stubborn.”

 **Yes.** ****

The keys went still and she started to wonder if he left. Then

**Stil need to get white coat.**

“Cabanela?”

She saw several keys waver. She felt like she could see him trying to think.

**He suspects sumthing.  Not rite. Will find out. Jowd misses. Trys to hide it but cant hide from a cat.**

“I suppose not,” Alma said with a slight smile.

**Help?**

“I… I can try.”

 **Thank you.** A pause but before she could say anything the keys started pounding rapidly. **One more thing. Hard to use this. Hard to spel. Help me lern?**

Alma chuckled. “I’d be happy to.”

* * *

 

They made for an odd pair and draw many glances their way – the tall airy man in a long white coat with a dance in every step and the older man half his height with a bird on his head trudging along beside him.

Cabanela won this day and finally succeeded in dragging the professor for an afternoon out in town. A break was needed, something they both knew. While the professor wasn’t keen on the methods he went along with it on the merits of the Inspector actually taking a break.

He’d be a little happier if it was a little warmer.

Cabanela suddenly stopped. “Ooone moment.” He ducked into a shop and a few short minutes later swooped out holding a blue knit hat.

Before the Prof could protest he was carefully arranging it over his head and Lovey-Dove. He stepped back to eye his work. Lovey-Dove poked her head out from under it with a warm chirp.

“There. A looovely hat to keep the ears and lady’s wings warm.”

* * *

 

Cabanela set a leisurely pace, no need to rush. The Justice Minister had plenty on his plate; the man would probably appreciate a delay on this particular problem.

“Slow night?” Jowd asked dryly. “Escorting a prisoner, isn’t that a bit low for the top police Inspector of the country?”

Ouch. Cabanela shrugged airily. “Only one thing on my schedule, baby, and I’ve got aaall night.”

“Hmph. Doesn’t look like either of us has much of a schedule tonight.

"Exactly. What’s a liiitle longer?”

Jowd suddenly chuckled as if a thought had just occurred to him. “And I’m already late anyway!” he laughed.

Cabanela shot him a look. He knew that look of amusement on his friend’s face all too well, but either he was rustier than he thought in Jowd-ese or he was missing some deeper part of the joke.

However, it was clear there were no explanations forthcoming. There never were. Infuriating man, how he’d missed this.


	10. Ghost Trick Bits 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some pre-game scenes. Some post-game scenes. Featuring Lynne, Jowd, Cabanela, Sissel and Memry.

“You should stop calling. You have a bright future ahead of you. Focus on that and forget about me.”

Lynne scowled at the wall and gripped the phone tighter, “I am focusing on my future.” A future with you in it, she added mentally. “My last exam is coming up and Inspector Cabanela’s really helped me out a lot. You two were friends… I bet he’d support me!”

“He has far more important things to worry about than a murderer. My case is long buried.” Jowd said. “Let it go.”

Nuh uh. Don’t even try it. “I’ll be a full-fledged detective really soon now.” She drew herself up proudly. “For me. For you and to stop anyone else from being wrongly accused.”

“Lynne…”

“I have to finish studying for the evening, but I’ll call soon. Good bye Detective Jowd.” She hung up. And not another word of protest from you, she mentally shot at the phone.

She immediately picked the phone back up and dialed another number. Arguing with that man worked up an appetite and there was plenty of studying to do.

“Hi I’d like to order in one chicken dinner please!”  
  


* * *

  
 Jowd suppressed a yawn as he entered their office. What a night. Successful, but long and grueling and now there was the mountain of paperwork to take care of. And, yet, despite their late hours Cabanela still beat him here.

In body anyway if not in spirit. He was leaned back in his seat, his face rested against one hand, his mouth slightly open and his other arm dangling over the side of the chair.

Jowd closed the door a little louder than necessary. Cabanela’s face slipped with a slight gasp and he jerked up, eyes flashing open. He stared blearily at Jowd for a moment then blinked and straightened.

“Resting the eyes?” Jowd asked dryly.

“Of couuurse.” No need to know he’d been ‘resting’ them for at least the past hour.

Jowd strolled up to his desk and peered into the half empty mug of cold coffee, “Of course.” No one is fooling anyone here, partner.  
  


* * *

  
“Sissel, are you around?” Jowd waited.

“What is it?”

“Do you have any idea why Cabanela would have an... aversion,” fear felt wrong to say not that it mattered what he said: no secrets in the ghost world, “to hard hats of all things?” He certainly wasn’t going to get an explanation from Cabanela who pretended the wide berth he gave the construction yard hadn’t happened and he had nooo idea what he was talking about.

There was a feeling of discomfort and if ever a cat could look awkward Sissel was doing it. However, no secrets in the ghost world and the memories came fast as thought.

“He died? Twice.” A pause. “You shot him with a hard hat?” Jowd continued incredulously.

“It was technically our little dog friend. It was the last second,” Sissel added defensively. “There weren’t a lot of options.”

A hard hat. Here, Jowd had been worried about what might still be remembered in some way in this new present. He would never have counted death by hard hats among those concerns.

A hard hat.       
   

* * *

 

Lynne’s hand froze mid knock on hearing muffled raised voices from inside, one voice anyway. Some poor soul had drawn the Inspector’s wrath by the sounds of it. Lynne bit her lip. Maybe it would be better to come back later.

“NOW!” Thump. Lynne winced.

“Y-y-y-yes, Sir!”

There were rapid footsteps and Lynne backed away. The office door opened spilling out an ashen faced detective. He closed it as softly as able and leaned against it for a moment heaving a shaky sigh. They exchanged a brief glance, wide eyed on his part, before he rushed away.

She eyed the door that now seemed to loom. This could wait.  
  


* * *

 

Memry cautiously peeked around the corner of the building. There he was. This was risky, but nothing else would sate her curiosity.

The Inspector sat on a low wall with a notebook in his lap.

“That’s quiiite a theory.” A long pause. “Ha! Of course not!”

Who was he talking with? There had to be a radio somewhere. A bug? This wasn’t the first time she’d caught him seeming to talk with himself. Just who was the other party? Had to be another detective, but she knew it wasn’t Detective Jowd, so who? A secret agent? Some top secret mission being carried out?

“That would be a problem, but it didn’t reaaally happen now, did it?”

What didn’t happen? Argh.

“We need to keep him aliiive. Just keep doing your thing, okay?”

Who? What was going on? What thing? Memry scowled.

“I’ll drop you off. Give my regards to Alma.”

Memry ducked back behind the building as Inspector Cabanela closed the book and jumped off the wall.  Ohhh what she wouldn’t give to get a good look at that notebook. Since when did he use one? What was in there? Drop _who_ off? And Alma? Wasn’t that Detective Jowd’s wife? But she checked before leaving and Jowd was still at the station and certainly in no need of a drop off.

She grinned. The mystery deepened. It was a dangerous game, the best kind. There was no hiding from her; she’d find the answers.

 


	11. Ghost Trick Bits 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realized I had a collection of the tiny stuff and could gather them up into another Bits group. Been a while. Most I have posted before on Tumblr, except one that's totally new and I did a bit of editing on the older stuff.
> 
> Mix of post-game, alternate times and a pre-game. Cabanela, Jowd, Alma, Sissel, Yomiel and Fian!Sissel and a little Kamila

What was it Jowd once said? “A joke’s a joke. You might as well laugh.”

What else was there to do? The professor could only stare as Cabanela stood, head thrown back, fingers wound through his hair, and laughing hard enough to threaten suffocation.

“He won!” he gasped out. “Aha. But joke’s on him I’m still going.”

He shook his head as his hand dropped. His eyes shut tight and a sharp edged grin cut through his features.

“Great, great detective fails to see the obvious. What a sooorry affair.” He chuckled. “You won this round, but did you honestly think I’d stop here? Not lettin’ all this time go to waste, old friend.”

Tears streamed down his face. He shook with another choked sound. “Not five… five…” His knees buckled. He caught the edge of the desk as he sunk to the floor.

His voice broke. “He’s… gone…” A sob replaced the laughter.  

* * *

“I can pick you up afterward if you want to save time,” Jowd said while pouring his coffee.  

He whirled around at the shattering sound and the resultant splash. Cabanela stood frozen, his hand still out while his mug was in pieces on the floor in a pool of coffee.

Jowd stared in alarm. He’d so rarely seen him so still and dropping things was unheard of.

“Cabanela! What’s wrong?”

Cabanela’s voice was filled with wonder and stunned disbelief. “It’s over.”

Before Jowd had time to react Cabanela flung himself over the spill and Jowd rocked back under the force of his impact. His arms wrapped around him in a hold that threatened to never let go. Instinct overcame Jowd’s shock and he returned the hold as Cabanela’s voice broke after a muffled word that sounded suspiciously like ‘idiot’.

It was over.

* * *

Alma leaned against the counter sipping tea as she watched Kamila get her bag ready for school.

“Am I seeing one or two of you off today?” she asked.

“Two I think,” Kamila answered. “Are you there, Sissel?”

Alma smiled into her tea as her daughter’s ribbon made an answering wiggle. “Looks like he is. You’ll both have to tell me how your day goes.”

“Okay mom. We’re off now!”

“Have a good day you two. Sissel, don’t cause any trouble,” she teased and smiled as the ribbon somehow managed to portray indignation through a simple twitch reminiscent of the flick of a cat’s tail.

What an odd turn their lives took, she reflected after Kamila and Sissel left the house. Yet it would seem wrong not to have the little ghost cat in their lives now. Odd, but Sissel’s presence was a comfort. While she rationally knew there was little to worry about in regards to Kamila’s safety she couldn’t pretend she didn’t feel some relief at knowing when he was watching over her.

As for Jowd she was more grateful than she could say to know he had the cat for support, both in his work and on an emotional level, as one of the very few who truly knew what he went through. It twisted her heart knowing they could speak directly and knowing what that meant, but she was grateful to Sissel nonetheless, even as she harboured a quiet secret fear of Kamila one day saying she could speak with him.

Still, regardless of her fears, her gratitude toward Sissel was unbound and she looked forward to another pleasant evening over the typewriter with him.

* * *

Yomiel stared in confusion as the little cat wound around his legs before he crouched down. He tentatively reached out to pet him and he gave a small mew in response.

At this time of year he knew it was likely cold. Was this cat cold?

“No home, huh?” No home. No people either.

He got another meow and a purr in response to his petting. Cold and alone… like him. It didn’t have to be that way though, did it? Maybe he could… they could face everything together…?

The words sounded strange to him even as he said them. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

* * *

Umbrellas were useless. The wind only tried to tear them out of their hands. Sissel irritably pushed wet strands of hair out of her face and turned around when she realized she was alone. Yomiel stood a few steps back, his face turned up into the rain.

“It’s cold. This wind is terrible. We’re in the middle of a storm and now you want to stop and feel the rain?” she complained.

Her irritation fell away at the broad smile on his face. She hadn’t seen that look in such a long time and never quite like this.

“Yes,” he breathed.

She couldn’t stop her own smile as she stepped back to join him.


	12. Ghost Trick Bits 12

If there was one thing everyone in the precinct knew it was that a seething Inspector was an Inspector to avoid – all except one.

Jowd clapped a hand to Cabanela’s shoulder. “Cheer up. It could have gone worse. No one died.”

Cabanela twisted his head back to frown up at Jowd from his chair. “You almost did.” His face softened, but there was doubt in his eyes. “For a moment I was sure you had, baby.”

Jowd shrugged. “Just my luck.”

“Luuuck, right…”

“They escaped this time, but we’ll get them,” Jowd said in hopes of pulling Cabanela back to simpler matters.

“Maaaybe that ‘luck’ of yours will help there too, baby?”

“Ha, maybe!”

Cabanela returned his gaze to his desk and while some of his anger faded Jowd knew it was replaced with pondering and suspicion. He made a mental note to warn Sissel to be subtler next time.

* * *

Jowd looked over just in time to rescue the slipping teacup from Cabanela’s slack hand.

He set it aside on the coffee table with a shake of his head. While he was sure Cabanela wouldn’t mind being woken - would likely prefer it - he knew he would be less than thrilled to be so by spilling tea on himself.

On the other hand, if this were to occur again (and Jowd knew it would) there was some temptation in letting it happen. Or, there would be if he thought the lesson had any chance of sinking in and not only leading to one cranky Cabanela.

Jowd waited a little while and when there was no sign of him waking up he tried saying his name. No response.

With a sigh and far more practice than he ever expected to have he slipped his arms around and under Cabanela lifting him away from the couch. Cabanela only stirred to lean more heavily into Jowd’s shoulder.

Jowd carried him upstairs and deposited him into their guest room. Guest room, Cabanela’s room - they were starting to feel one and the same.

Now, if Cabanela would only learn anything resembling a normal sleep schedule to make proper use of it.

* * *

 _I’m coming for you Yomiel._ A lie. She cannot come. She is dead and he is trapped here, not alive, not dead, not anything. He can’t go to her either. He learned that the hard way, didn’t he?

Yomiel sits on the floor in a corner of his apartment. He should feel more, shouldn’t he? Anguish at loss? Pain? Emptiness? He has that and it feels like cheating. Can’t pull away anything that isn’t there, can you?

He wants to cry. He hates crying, but he can’t help but think that maybe the tears would somehow fill the hole inside. The tears don’t come. Maybe they can’t come anymore either.

He stares at a hand – his hand. It belongs to him, it’s all him, though he doesn’t feel it. Like a puppet, he thinks, and he is the puppeteer. The analogy pleases him. Puppets can’t feel. He’s halfway there already. They only dance on their strings until their duty is done and left to lie. They don’t know what they miss, what they never had.

He’s tired of moving. He’s tired of being. What’s left for him to do but lie still?

* * *

It’s not the pain. It’s an old ache no longer worth his attention. It’s as much a part of him now as the dance in his step or the brightness to his words.

It’s not the fury. It’s fuel to propel him forward through the years, to crash against stone walls, only to shatter and rebuild for as many times as it takes.

It’s the hollow feeling that stops him in his tracks, that steals his breath away and leaves him frozen. It’s a pit from which the questions seep out like a poison: Why is he doing this? Why does he fight for a coward who has nothing to return but a pack of lies? Questions, questions that turn darker with every turn. Will freeing him from one prison only leave him in another of his own making? What is left to save? What is stopping him from walking away now, to return to his own life and leave him to the one he so clearly wanted?

He can only sink onto the nearest available surface and throttle them one by one until he can breathe again.

* * *

It wasn’t hard to mistake that furiously wagging tail or the bounding run that was more of a bounce than anything.

Cabanela whistled. “Missile!”

The little dog skidded to a stop, nearly tumbling over in a somersault before rocking back then pirouetting around to charge at Cabanela.

In one fluid motion Cabanela swung himself off his bike and knelt on the ground in time for Missile to bounce over to him. He ran an excited circle around him before putting his paws on Cabanela’s leg, his tail blurring in his excitement.

“What are you doin’ out here, boy? Did my baby try to leeeave you behind?”

Wag, wag, wag. Sharp bark.

“We can’t have that! Come on. You stiiick with me.”

He returned to his bike and took it slow with Missile trotting alongside. That is, until Missile suddenly put on a burst of speed and all leisurely pace was forgotten.

There was only a pause to reorder themselves before making their grand entrance into the Jowd household.

* * *

Was there anything more tempting than tree lights for a cat? Jowd watched Sissel over the top of his file. The cat sat by the tangled mess while Alma engaged in the yearly tradition of untangling the mess. Sissel looked far too intent for Jowd’s comfort.

Alma stood with a stretch. “I don’t know how they manage this,” she grumbled. “I’m getting some tea. Want some?”

“If you’re getting some anyway pour me a cup.”

She nodded and left the living room. It wasn’t long before Jowd spotted a section of cord sliding and away from one of the many loops.

“Don’t push your luck.”

_“I’m helping our lady.”_

_“Nothing to do with pretty shiny objects?”_

Jowd stifled a laugh at the air of defensive disgruntlement.

_“No.” Sissel rallied. “Your staring is more noticeable than a little trick or two – when she’s not even in the room.”_

Point taken cat. Jowd pointed to a tangle in the corner of the mass. _“She was struggling with that earlier.”_

Jowd watched the lights wiggle and slide, slowly loosening before coming to an abrupt stop.

“Right,” Alma said as she entered the room. She set the tea on the table and sat on the floor. She glanced at Sissel. “Just can’t get enough of these, can you? Pity you can’t lend a helping paw,” she teased.

Jowd and Sissel exchanged a look.


	13. Ghost Trick Bits 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A scattering of pieces all over before and after game timeline. Gathered from my Tumblr except one that's brand new everywhere (as of this posting).

“Aliens!”

The professor glanced up from his newspaper as Cabanela jumped from his seat and started pacing.

“Aliens,” the professor said flatly. “I suppose it makes as much sense as anything here.” Maybe more if he was honest.

“And why not?” Cabanela said with a wave of his hand. “A meteorite hits, aliens come. Maybe they rooode it baby.” He paused and shot the professor a questioning look. “Is that pooossible?”

“We have some kind of radiation I’ve never seen before, a rock star singer that sung national secrets and some curry lover invading the commissioner’s office. I’m not about to rule out anything at this point.” He snorted. “Not to mention our vanishing corpse.”

Cabanela resumed his pacing, gesticulating wildly. “They come down ten years ago and start slippin’ into society, makin’ deals with other countries and…”

“And controlling rock stars.”

“And detectives,” Cabanela replied sharply.

“Yet if such beings exist, what’s the point of all this?”

Cabanela flung himself back into his chair. “That’s the biiig question, isn’t it prof?”

“Hmph, I suppose even the Inspector can’t confirm or deny all conspiracy theories, eh?”

“Not yeeet.”

“Oh? What’s next? Chief of Police? Government?”

“If I haaave to.”

He hadn’t meant it very seriously and Cabanela replied with a smile, but the professor couldn’t shake the feeling he was sincere.

Aliens, hmph. Why not?  

 

* * *

 

“Hm, unsettling,” Jowd commented.

“I guess it would be, seeing your body…” Sissel hesitated as his words and who he was saying them to caught up with him. “What did you mean?”

“Cabanela,” Jowd replied.

Sissel followed his gaze to the very clearly distraught detective knelt in front of Jowd. He covered his eyes with one hand, but Sissel could still see the tears and the bared teeth. His other hand clutched Jowd’s coat in a white knuckled grip.

Like Lynne, Sissel found himself thinking, but worse.

“Is it any surprise?” Sissel asked.

Jowd’s discomfort was clear. “Maybe not… but…”

To have it in his face where he couldn’t possibly miss it or back away, Sissel thought.

“If you’re going to think it you may as well as say it. No point in hiding here, is there?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Sissel said dryly.

A grimace from Jowd before he nodded to his body. “Shall we get this cleaned up?”

“Right… Come on then. Back to four minutes ago.”

 

* * *

 

At first Sissel was content to follow Jowd’s lead in maintaining secrecy and allow the family every sort of peace they could have – at first. Jowd surrounded himself with observant and smart people. Was it peace to let them worry and wonder? Was it peace to allow these clever humans to search and study and pull at the fragile veil they wove?

If he let things slip occasionally it could easily be chalked up to coincidence or a random bit of oddness, for a little while, until the occurrences mounted up resulting in a stern talk from Jowd. Sissel nodded along and agreed he would be subtler and he was. He was subtler in making sure Jowd didn’t find out about his efforts. He wasn’t always successful and while the detective was loathe to admit it in the face of increasing fears of discovery, Sissel knew he wasn’t the only one enjoying their increasingly elaborate game.

And on it went until the Good Lady and the White Coat grew ever more suspicious and started putting one and one together to make a guilty pair and so two conspirators became three.

Jowd never stood a chance.

 

* * *

 

Jowd adjusted his grip on the ladder and frowned up at the impossibly bent form above him. Ladder safety was clearly for lesser beings, but there ought to be some kind of limit if not one born of common sense.

A hand dangled down. “Tape?”

“We could move this around,” Jowd said passing the tape up.

Cabanela’s head bent back briefly to give him a look. “And lose my peeerfect angle? Precision baby!”

“They’re streamers. I wasn’t aware there was an art to hanging them.”

“And that is why Alma enlisted my aid.”

“If you fall on your head I’m not catching you.”

“Frankly.” There was a pause as he engaged in some complex tangle of movements before descending the ladder in the closest approximation to a normal human he was capable of. “I’m insuuulted you think I would.” He looked up with satisfaction at his handiwork. “There. Lovely decorations for your looovely little lady.”

 

* * *

 

The young girl fell asleep watching TV and she didn’t have the heart to move her. She shouldn’t be there; she should be in her home, happy. None of this is right. Things will change and the world will be the way it was meant to be again. She won’t abandon him and she will find a way to the truth. This is not the way it should be.

It sometimes hits him in the deepest hours of the night. One terrible day turned everything upside down. One day led to another and another in an endless track. Darker thoughts make him wonder – does he have it wrong? His certainty tells him he is right without a doubt, and he will see the world fixed. This is not the way it should be.

Another day, another night. Their passing is meaningless only spelled out in strokes of paint. He thinks on them as he forms their faces on canvas. Are they well? Only a single phone line connects him to the outside world and gives him clues toward how things are and that is too much. Otherwise he is in the dark. This is the way it should be.


	14. Ghost Trick Bits 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lovey-dovey edition (not the bird though sorry Lovey-Dove)

The sound still rings through his ears merging with a cry of pain and an angry yell.

He reaches out automatically to catch the falling man. Others can pursue their target. It’s important but reaction claims more importance here and now.

He lowers him to the ground, keeping his arms around him for support.

“Why?” Sissel we need you.

Cabanela’s voice is a tight whisper as he struggles to breathe through the blood staining his chest.

“You’re the… detective…” His hand wraps around Jowd’s sleeve.

Sissel… Was there time? Would there be time? Cabanela tends toward punctuality.

His desperate thoughts and surge of relief at Sissel’s reassurance of his presence nearly cause him to miss the faint answer he asked for.

Cabanela leans heavily into his chest, his head dropping down to his own. A distrurbing lack of energy and his voice is weaker than he’s ever heard.

“Love, baby, nothing like it…”

And as his hand slackens around his arm and he goes far too still, Jowd can’t help a derisive laugh.

“Sissel.”

The ghost’s uncertainty at his reaction is clear, but he leaves it be. “I’m on it.”

What can Jowd say? A blunt and clear confession for a change and he won’t remember a word. Typical.

* * *

Jowd’s shoulders were still slumped under the weight Cabanela hoped would lift once the truth was out. If Jowd’s weight lifted maybe his would too. This was a heaviness he did not want for any of them and while he would gladly take on some of the burden some remaining questions nagged at him incessantly.

“I left you?” He tried to pass it off as a casual question and ignore the feeling of having to force every word out of his mouth.

Jowd’s look was quizzical before he laughed. “Didn’t you listen? I kept you busy.”

“Of course, but cleaaarly leavin’ you alone with your thoughts in the dark was a bad idea.” He stepped forward to wrap long arms around Jowd. “I should have known better. It’s not right.”

“Not sure I’d say throwing away five years and everything else aside for one goal is right either,” Jowd replied lightly and returned the hug.

Idiot. Leaving him to stew certainly started to show its temptations, but to actually do so bothered him even as he held pride in knowing he pursued the only conceivable path.

“You knooow I’d do anything for you and now you’ve got the proof.”

“I’m sorry.” Jowd muttered something else that tried to get lost in the folds of his scarf. The unexpected surge of warmth agreed with what his ears tried to tell him as unexpected as it was.

“Didn’t quiiite catch that, baby.”

“You’re a ridiculous man who ought to know how to spend his time better?”

“Nooo, no it wasn’t that.”

Silence and Cabanela decided to take pity on the man this once. He tightened his hug and his hold on a present with a past that no longer existed.

“You too, baby.”

* * *

Jowd basked in her voice and glanced down at her. He could swear she almost glowed in the slowly fading sunlight, the light sparkling off her hair. And such a sight was still enough to take his breath away.

He’d known for a while now, hadn’t he? He couldn’t imagine another future and the thought of spending his life with someone else seemed foreign and strange.

“I love you,” he murmured during a comfortable lull in conversation.

Alma nestled deeper into his arms. “I love you too,” she said with a contented sigh.

He knew then as he’d come to realize for the last while what he wanted to do. He just never expected such an important decision to be made with such ease. Asking would be a different challenge.

But for the present there was only a pleasant quiet as the clouds lit with the sinking sun’s rays.

* * *

“You didn’t have to.”

Sissel glanced up from her book. Yomiel stared at his screen and she was pretty sure he was at the exact same spot he’d been at several minutes ago.

“Have to what?” she asked.

“Wait for me,” Yomiel said. His gaze remain fixed on his screen.

Sissel stood then and put a soft hand on his shoulder. He twitched. He startled so easily these days, she noticed, at touches anyway. She’d tried to ask him about it and if she should do something different, but he only shrugged her off before hugging her close. She could only guess it was from being in prison for so long. Isolated, alone… She slipped both arms around his shoulders slowly and gently. He touched her hand.

“Of course I waited,” Sissel said. “When you proposed to me that day it was the happiest day of my life. I held onto that all through the years knowing there would be even more wonderful days for us.”

“Sissel, I…” He paused and she squeezed his shoulders. “There will be,” he whispered.

“Is something wrong?”

“…No, no everything is great.”

Sissel bit back a sigh - no need to risk bringing him down further - and returned to her seat.

“And will get even better,” she said with a smile. “One more week and we’re official.”

She saw him swallow nervously, but his returning smile was genuine.

“Thank you Sissel.”

Everything would be just fine.


	15. Ghost Trick Bits 15

There were nerves and joy, mostly joy. Cabanela couldn’t help but think of their wedding announcement as if he hadn’t seen that one miles off.

“Well,” Alma said, “we’ve decided to go for that house.”

“Mhmmm, aaand?” That wasn’t all and a little seed of wonder sprouted. Could it be?

“We’ll need the extra space after all,” said Jowd. His tone was teasing with just a little extra gruffness.

Cabanela started to grin as his suspicion grew. Out with it baby. Teases, the lot of them.

“I hope you’ll be ready to meet a new face,” Alma added, her face lit with a smile. “I’m pregnant.”

”Ha!” Cabanela crowed as he jumped to his feet. “And who let youuu be parents?”

“Well.” Before Alma could finish Cabanela wrapped her into a hug, slowing down just enough to be gentler than his initial launch. Her laugh tinkled in his ears. “I’m not made of glass, you know.”

Cabanela only reached out with one arm to tug at Jowd meaningfully. Jowd complied and encircled them both in his large arms.

His precious duo soon to be a precious family and Cabanela couldn’t be happier for them.

* * *

 

Jowd had told a joke—truly terrible and he’d almost thrown the camera at him for that; the laughter still lingered around Alma’s smile. Jowd’s grin was broad. He’d get him for that next time. A preserved moment, a reminder. They were beautiful.

The picture slipped from Cabanela’s hands into his lap as he leaned back. His eyes wandered over the blank expanse of his ceiling—white, bright, sharp, an affront to sore eyes. Nothing to see and nothing to focus on.

She was as a porcelain doll—still, pale, hollow—before she was locked away, lost to the ground. No laughter there nor warmth.

He was gone, buried himself, vanished like so much smoke—bitter and stinging.

The picture frame was cold under his fingers. He didn’t even have the decency to lie to his face. He silently left him with shattered pieces to put together and nothing fit.

His gaze drifted back down to the picture, ever drawn to their image, and his hand followed to cover that grin, a caress, a shield. A promise.

There was a broken thread and he would find its ends and weave them back together.

* * *

 

The man in front of him, gleaming in the moonlight, is the last man Jowd expected to find here. He is the only man to find here.

He takes in this sight, a clash of presence and memory. A melding of the present and past. They are after all not so different as he expects.

He had fought with his brush over the lines and angles of this familiar face.

A harsh glare, eyes in too shrewd judgement. That is what he last remembered. That is what fit the darkness.

His brush remembered a smile, warm and carefree. It had no place down there in the dark. It has no place with him.

Now he wonders if he and brush could have only been in agreement. The smile is as he remembers as is the sharp stare. The combination brings something new. Jowd knows he is searching him just as he is.

He has nothing for him.

There is something else at play. The words dance off his tongue as easily as any step. His movements are as light and fluid as ever.

To his eyes there is a discord. He is poised in the tenuous place between leaping and plummeting. He is the same. He is different.

Now he dances on the edge. Where does that edge go and where does the fall lead?

A dance and a game. Some things have changed and some things, it seems, are immutable.

* * *

 

If there was one thing to be learned from living a life in the regular presence of a Cabanela it was to expect the unexpected. So, it was with little suprise, but some confusion that Jowd found himself abruptly embraced from behind, long arms wrapping tightly around him. The head resting against his shoulder was only an extension of this sudden hug, he supposed. Whether or not a reason was forthcoming seemed another matter entirely.

He let Cabanela linger quietly. If there was an explanation he’d get to it in his own time. And if he was honest it was appreciated. This was present, this was a reminder.

He felt Cabanela’s sigh against his neck before he was released. He looked back in time to catch a small nod.

“Is there a problem?”

“Not nooow, baby, not now,” and with that enigmatic answer Cabanela swirled out of the room as cheerful seeming as ever.

Expect the unexpected and the unexplained.

* * *

 

It’s not a phrase he ever expected to hear again, not outside of story telling and that’s done and behind them (mostly). It’s not a term that belongs in this lifetime.

It starts as a simple phone call. Cabanela has to cancel their dinner plans—unusual but not unheard of. He’ll be down the rabbit hole—less unheard of—Jowd knows better than anyone how absorbed he can get (possibly better than he himself truly knows). That’s fine.

What’s less fine is the brightness of his voice like a fluorescent light, too bright and grating, false. Something’s off.

It’s the D99 case, Cabanela says cheerily and doesn’t Jowd know how tough that one’s been?

Jowd stiffens then. Not just off, but wrong, oh so wrong.

He tries to keep it casual while gesturing to Sissel to go. ‘I see’, and 'be careful’. Simple meaningless platitudes. He knows and he’s sure Cabanela will know he knows. How could he not with such a message?

He has to go. Duty calls and Jowd is left wondering what exactly that duty entails. Sissel is there. Whatever happens they’ll work things out.

Jowd hurries away then to the station with a request to Alma to tell Sissel where he’s gone when or if the cat comes back before matters are resolved.

D99. To think that particular phrase would become a call for help.

 


	16. Ghost Trick Bits 16

The first time it’s late, not drastically so, but when the Chief notices the light still on in the Inspector’s office he pauses. He didn’t know when he’d come in for the day but it was earlier than him and certainly earlier than necessary, so he puts his own exit on delay and enters.

Cabanela is still at his desk but seems cheerful and as awake as ever, the cheer only fading briefly when the Chief shoos him home.

The next time, that the Chief is aware of, it’s late, too late and it was one hell of a long night. The Chief’s already had several calls from his wife and as the clock hand ticks to two, he is more than willing to obey.

There’s a light under the Inspector’s door and he hesitates, wondering if there would be any point in bothering, but the man’s not going to do any good if he’s exhausted or ill (unless certain rumours floating around the unit proved any truth toward the Inspector not being human that is).

He pushes open the door, prepared for a fight and stops. Well, that’s one rumour debunked. Cabanela’s slumped into his seat very clearly asleep. When the Chief peers around the desk he sees the pen still trapped under his hand against his leg.

He sighs and backs away, turns off the light and leaves, quietly closing the door behind him.

He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

 

* * *

 

“This is quite a show of escorting a prisoner,” Jowd said dryly as Cabanela paused to lean against the bridge railing. “Shouldn’t we be moving on?”

“Got plaaaces to be, baby?”

Jowd snorted. “Only one place and I’ve already ruined my attendance.” He couldn’t help but look curiously at Cabanela even as he continued to probe in what he knew was a risky conversation and yet he couldn’t help himself.

“But I can’t imagine the Inspector has so little to do he can spare the time to take a wander with a death-row inmate,” Jowd added and turned his wrists pointedly. “But I see your confidence hasn’t changed. Letting an escaped prisoner roam free like this.”

Cabanela only gave him a passing glance. “Why not? You plannin’ to do another runner, baby?”

“No, I’ve had my fun.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Cabanela murmured. He straightened and stepped away. “And who am I to keep you waitin’ any longer? Shaaall we, Mr Death-row inmate?”

“I’m ready,” Jowd replied.

And it was only as they walked on in silence that Jowd no longer had any idea what it was he was ready _for_.

 

* * *

 

“And what can I do for youuu, Chief?” The lightest of emphasis on the word, nothing obvious, oh no. Only the most delicate touches were allowed clearly, but no less obvious to Jowd’s ears. He sighed.

“Watch it. My name wasn’t the only one on the list.”

Cabanela perched on the corner of Jowd’s desk, bringing one long leg up over the other in the most graceful display of impertinence he’d seen.

“Maaaybe so,” he drawled with a spreading smile, “but I have to saaay I prefer the view over here.”

“And I have to say,” Jowd replied with an ever so serious and pointed stare at his desk, “that this wasn’t intended as a social call.”

It was almost insulting how completely Cabanela ignored the remark. Then again, who was he to complain? This was strange enough without something so simple as actual regard being paid to their positions.

“So I say again, what can I do for youuu?”

Jowd settled more comfortably into his chair as he pulled folders together. This was more like it, simple discussions of upcoming cases and plans. No different than the many times they’d worked together or collaborated across divisions.

“I’ll speak with Memry this afternoon. She and Lynne should have nooo problems,” Cabanela said as their talks concluded and he finally hopped up from Jowd’s desk and proceeded to leave.

“Ah, one more thing,” Jowd said, earning a pirouette from Cabanela at the door. “Kamila’s holiday is starting and she’ll be coming home this weekend. You’d best not make plans or I won’t be held responsible for the consequences.”

Cabanela grinned. “Only one plan now, baby!”

Jowd relaxed as Cabanela left. A new position was a trial by fire. That was one down.

 

* * *

 

Cabanela lounged in a half-doze, caught in a sleepy haze. Too many long days followed by long nights lately and they’d caught up—unfair. In other circumstances his state would be irritating, but sprawled across this sofa with the low sound of Jowd and Alma’s voices and kitchen work in his ears, he felt only warmth.

“Uncle?”

Cabanela peeked an eye open to see Kamila standing near and he had to bite his tongue. He knew that set in her shoulders, the line of her mouth, and yes there was the tension in her hands at her sides. Gods above, she really was becoming more like her father every day. Thank goodness for Alma’s tempering. So much for her first college term steering her away.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something? I need your help…”

Cabanela sat up and nodded toward the now empty space on the couch. Kamila took a seat, but it did nothing for her tension. Now what could have her this wound up?

“What’s eatin’ you?”

Kamila took a deep breath before her words spilled out in a breathless tumble. “Amelie wants to go dancing and we finally have the chance to and I should know how with mom and you and… but I don’t! I’m so clumsy. I don’t want to embarrass her… But you taught dad! So…”

She frowned at the amusement Cabanela couldn’t quite keep at bay. “It’s not funny!”

He raised a placating hand. “It’s not thaaat. Just thinkin’ of cycles.” He gave her a curious look. He wouldn’t have expected her to be this flustered; someone wanted to make an impression. “Now firstly, you are not clumsy.”

“But-.”

“Ah! Secondly, I don’t think that girl knooows the meanin’ of the word embarrassment. And thirdly, of course I can teach you.”

Kamila visibly sagged with relief and Cabanela had a feeling it wasn’t so much at his answer—what else could she expect him to say—but that she got the question out at all. Yep, cycles.

He smiled to himself. Things were going to get reaaal interesting.


	17. Ghost Trick Bits 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jowd and Cabanela moments.

“Aaask her.”

Jowd snapped out of his thoughts. They’d made it the police station and he hadn’t even noticed.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Cabanela shot him a look of barely held patience and amusement. “You knooow exactly what I mean baby.” He sprung ahead up the shallow steps to the main entrance. “Points don’t mean much when my competition’s thiiis distracted, man.”

Jowd scowled at his back as he disappeared through the doors. But maybe… one simple date?

 

* * *

 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Cabanela’s fingers drummed against his thigh, legs stretched out from their bench, but more a taut wire than anything relaxed. “Could saaay the same to you.”

“Mm,” Jowd replied. “I let him get away.”

“And I led us down the wrong rabbit hole.”

“Ha! Not so bad to know those instincts of yours might actually be human.”

Cabanela gave him a sideways frown even as his tension seemed to drain away. “Don’t get used to it baby!"

 

* * *

 

“The green one.”

Jowd found himself under Cabanela’s steady stare.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“The coats you were eyein’ yesterday. The green one would suit you just fiiine, baby.”

The coats that caught his eye for all of a few seconds as they passed by? He’d noticed that? He shook his head; of course he had and now there was little choice in the matter judging by that look.

Jowd shrugged. “Maybe.”

‘Maybe,’ he’d said, and maybe he’d remember that meant ‘yes’ when Cabanela was involved, he thought, as he tossed the new green coat onto the hook by his door.

 

* * *

 

“No.”

“You’ll have to be a liiittle more specific baby.”

“Kamila does not need that dog plush.”

“You have to admit it was adorable.”

“And huge. She doesn’t have the space. _We_ don’t have the space.”

“It’s your caaall,” Cabanela said just a little too meekly for sincerity and rose to leave.

“And that goes for the cat as well!” Jowd called as Cabanela waltzed away.

Cabanela smiled to himself. Oh well, there were plenty of other options for the young lady’s birthday.

 

* * *

 

Cabanela’s pen bit into the paper as he gave a friendly wave to a passing colleague. He answered his phone with good cheer as his blood boiled and his tea, drunk with a flourish, tasted bitter.

A familiar heavy hand landed on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze and a brief rub against clenched muscles. They’d sort it out. It was going to be fine, and as the weight lifted and Jowd moved on to his desk, some of the red faded from Cabanela’s vision.

 

* * *

 

Cabanela was bossy, demanding and tenacious in pulling Jowd’s threads. Whether Jowd cared to admit it or not, the questioning, pointed comments, watchful eye and endless investigating tended to work, but Cabanela didn’t need to know that in the end it was often better that way—as if he didn’t know already.

But what he truly appreciated was Cabanela knowing when to stand by silently. When words he wasn’t sure he wanted to let slip were only acknowledged with a look or small nod, no matter how little context there was. Jowd suspected Cabanela always put two and two together more often than he let on.

Words could be appreciated, but sometimes a single exchange of looks did so much more. The transferal of, not optimism—that implied room for failure—but undeniable certainty that everything would work out.

He wanted to counter it. Demands could so easily mean nothing to a deaf universe’s ear. Yet with another met gaze, he knew one mountain couldn’t be scaled.

And maybe resting in its shadow wasn’t always such a bad thing.


End file.
